fourbizz

Get in touch with J Francho.

" I am socializing r-tard, im gaining xp doing quests with my party, using team speak"

I don't really think that makes a difference, how long do you think they would have made it with those weights pulling down. That doesnt matter to me.

Something that I think a lot of people are missing, is that the dead fish weighed in were likely not dead from the weight, but from the intense heat. There were a LOT of dead fish weighed in. His third day limit of five fish were weighed live, but killed to prove they had been weighted.

"I'm not your buddy, guy" "I'm not your guy, buddy"

Ive had pieces of shells come in and cut my face after getting gogged. That sucks. So does the shot in the beans.

I'm talking about MW2, but I went 10th in CoD4 as well.

Yep, 4 hours in the last 42. Its alright. I work out of town next week and when I do, I'm usually asleep by 8pm. That'll catch me up.

Yes. I hit tenth prestige in CoD today. NO boosting, no modding, just no life. lol . Finally, no more losing all the good stuff every few weeks.

I used to play once a week. It was expensive. I had my own fill station, so I made quite a bit back by selling air or trading for paint. We played strictly woods games. Usually about 6v6 on 40acres. Lots of fun. I dont like speedball, at all. We played alot of 10ball too. Now THAT is fun. I had half a dozen Spyders, and a model 98 that i would rent out too. At the time, my Autococker w/a 18inch Boomstick was pretty trick, for woods games. I really really miss it, but it is just too pricey, and I'm not around the group of guys that made it fun. I'll still pull the PGP out and shoot the neighbors cat when it gets in our garage though. ;D

;D So is it me, or is the TD's story really fun to read? Like a train full of puppies derailing. Horrible, but you just cant look away...

When you open the box: " Aaaaahhh DUDE! Kill the lights bro, youre harshin my mellow!"

It didnt say, but I doubt it. Mead is a small bass lake. So the extra 1.5lbs aggregate is a HUGE difference.

Straight from the TD of WON Bass:

http://www.wonews.com/t-WONBASS-cheater-7-21-10.aspx The various other forums are on fire, western bass has more details. Crazy.

Use whatever epoxy you want to seal. Thin it with denatured alcohol to a very thin viscosity.

He didnt.

I dont know about the Sierra Nevada version, but Bighorns are gross.

They are out of print, so your only real bet is used books. I dont think you can beat the $9 from amazon anyway. That is where I got my copy.

If you pinch the crawdads claw pretty hard, it will release it like a lizards tail. When they release it themselves, they dont lose bodily fluids and will survive much longer while you are fishing them.

That bowl is the last stronghold of the endangered Sierra Bighorn Sheep.

Why? What is the difference? Rejevenade is the one that makes them more "lively". It does this through irritation, thus stressing the fish more. Please Release Me has ingredients that sedate the fish, stressing them less.

http://www.amazon.com/Pursuit-Giant-Bass-Bill-Murphy/dp/0963312006/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1279482525&sr=8-3

Sometime back in February or March, my buddy Brandon and I managed to get permits for the VERY restrictive Williamson Bowl. They are hard to get and the area is closed to all human activity from July 15th until January. With the impressive snowpack the Sierras received this year, as our July 7th departure date loomed near, we realized that there was just going to be too much snow this year. It was a definite disappointment, but rather than squash the whole trip, we decided to do a 5 day loop through some backcountry that is lower in elevation. Some of our stops were familiar to us, some weren't. This is the story of the back up plan. We arrived on the morning of July 7th, after a couple hours of driving, at our trailhead. We each stashed a beer in the car for our triumphant return in 5 days. Those of you lacking the foresight to do the same, are cheating yourselves out of a wonderful return to civilization. We slung on our packs of 33lbs for me and what Brandon said was "around 40" for himself. I get the feeling that he does not go through the same trouble of weighing individual items and his full pack like I do. We started off up the trail around 10 a.m. The first few miles of this trail were familiar to us and we charged up it at a pretty good clip. Our itinerary for this trip was pretty flexible, but we were required to stay in a certain area for our first night. Despite this, we opted to take a small detour of a couple miles round trip to swing by an unfamiliar lake. By the time we arrived we were both a little gassed and I welcomed the opportunity to pick up my 8 weight and huck some big chunks of fur and feathers into the turquoise abyss. Yes, an 8 weight in the high country. Not so much for the size of the fish, but I am throwing some pretty big streamers and I like to sling them far. Unfortunately, this lake proved difficult to fly fish for a couple of reasons. Primarily, the lake has a large shallow shelf extending out 60-150 feet from the shore. It was obvious that the lakes large denizens would not be shallow during the middle of the day. The other obstacle I faced was very poor backcasting clearance. Even when I waded manhood deep into the clear, cold water, the casting locations were limited. As our first hour progressed the thunderheads that had been forecast began to stalk their way into our area. Since I had neglected to put in a packliner, or even bring my pack cover, it was obvious to us that we needed to boogie to the area we were slotted to camp at for the night. We needed to get camp set up before the rain made it to our sleeping bags and other critical gear. Use a packliner people. We finally arrived after crossing snowfields and slogging through a particularly wet and nasty trail. Camp went up quickly and without a hitch and we were pleased to be ready for the rain... that never came. By now it was about 2 in the afternoon. I opted to take a nap since I cleverly allowed myself 4 hours of sleep the night before. By 4 p.m. I was up, the big rod was strung, and I was hunting the big cruising Brown Trout of one of my favorite high country lakes. Like the trout hunting masters of the air, when chasing these big boys I pick a perch high above the water. Sometimes 10ft, sometimes 30ft, but always up high where you can see down into their house. Yes, I fish from up here. I put in a solid 4 hours of big Brown hunting for two good grabs. I missed both, but it was plenty entertaining watching them lazily cruise up to that big chunk of bunny and 'bou and suck it in. I dont know why it is so hard to hook these fish, but it is most likely a combination of being able to see them eat, setting too early, and having a good deal of slack in the line due to my lofty hunting spot. But, as I said, it was enough just to watch them come out and lay down the food chain law on my big streamers. We had a gourmet meal of ramen and tortilla, and hit the sack. After fighting nature's call for a couple of hours in the pre-dawn morning, I finally drug myself out of my nylon castle and took care of business. Once I'm up, I'm up, so I again grabbed the 8wt. Brandon remained lazily snoozing away as the dedicated hunter stalked out of camp intent on piscivorous persecution. I worked hard for a couple hours, with a few close calls, and far more flippant rejections from those wily old Browns. Just when the dedication was beginning to wane and the frustration was setting in, I saw a good one come into casting range and laid that big chunk of fur about 15 feet in front of him. I slowly stripped it back to the rocks and the fish did not hesitate, made a bee line over, and munched my streamer! I didnt have my landing net, it's laughably small size would have been like bringing a knife to a gun fight anyway. I got in the water and was eventually able to get hold of the fish. With Brandon still slumbering, I opted to take a quick picture near my rod and let the fish be on it's way. 21 inches as measured against my rod. Success. Not a giant, not nearly the biggest fish this place has to offer, or even the biggest that I had bite that day, but it was a great fish and my day was already made. 9 a.m. A small side-note. Notice the blue rubber band on my rod. This is a quick easy system I came up with for measuring fish. Hold the fish against the rod, even with the butt, then roll the rubber band down to the fishes nose. Measure at camp, or even at home, and you've got a quick easy tape for the backcountry that weighs practically nothing, and is always conveniently at hand. I went back to camp and rousted Brandon and he came out to fish. About then, the days thunderstorm arrived on scene. This one meant business. I continued to fish in the rain, in the hopes that it would get the big fish up shallow and more active. I wasn't off base in my hopes. The activity level definitely increased. More big fish were up and milling about. I missed a few more, had some heart thumping rejections, and spooked a whole pile of them off into deeper water. I love fishing in the rain. The static sound of raindrops on a waveless lake is the sound of peace to me. Those are the moments when I feel truly in my element. In short order, I spotted a good fish cruising super tight to the bank. I casted down about 20 feet in front of it, waited till it came within sight range of my fly and moved it to within a couple feet of land. As soon as she saw it, she torpedoed over and whacked it! Brandon was quick with the net and she was soon under my control. She was a chunk, clearly full of Redside minnows. 22.5 inches of chubby, streamer chewing goodness. Not bad for an alpine lake way up high in the backcountry! The storm eventually passed. With it went the big browns. Back to the murky depths to digest their meals and toy with me no longer. They really did drop back down. I dont think I had another sign of interest for the rest of the day. But that was fine by me. I was grateful for what I got. These fish are notoriously wily. It seems that most guys struggle trip after trip to get one. Maybe I fish harder, maybe I fish longer, maybe I am lucky. Whatever the case may be, I'll take it! I did manage to get a roughly twelve inch Brookie. His kindness in my time of hunger was summarily rewarded with a bonk on the head and a trip to the frying pan. Fear not, trout lovers, he was joined by wild onions, olive oil, parmesan, crushed red pepper, and some salt and lemon pepper. I topped that off with yet another round of ramen and tortillas. Our last night at this lake was a good one. I had a full belly and slept great. Our final morning was bright and clear, without a ripple to be seen on the water. A typical post frontal day. In my experience, these days suck for fishing, especially with the larger, more wary fish. Well, I love being right, but I love catching fish more. So unfortunately, when my prediction proved true and the fish didnt show, I was unable to add another picture of spotted gold and chocolate to my album. All of this trip report wont fit into this post, and reformatting the pictures is turning out to be a pain. The rest of the story is on my blog if you are interested.

Rejuvenade is bad. Please Release Me is good.